Causatum
by IceAndFireFinallyTogether
Summary: 'Their stories were so discreetly alike in so many ways.' A story about clashing feelings in the aftermath of the Great War. Nightmares, blood ties, inner struggle and trying to figure out who gets the throne. Includes an homage to Jorah and some of that Jon/Arya banter that we love. Chapter 3 : "Did you stick him with the pointy end?"
1. Chapter 1

Thick, icy fog enveloped both the dragons.

The harsh wind blew over them, the sounds of the battle below echoing all around them, the sounds of _death_.

"Dany! " Jon yelled out her name, having lost sight of Drogon, the fog too dense, icy rain too harshly hitting his face. And he got no response.

He worried. Of course he would. Daenerys had disregarded their plans the moment that they saw the Dothraki effectively disappear when colliding with the army of the dead. He understood her fierce protective urge, they were her people, people that had come so far, had gone against their beliefs and tradition to follow her into battle, to _die_ for her.

The moment he saw how Drogon surged into battle, he and Rhaegal followed. He would not leave her alone. And the living had definitely needed the dragon fire, though, the icy fog that enveloped them had made things difficult. They did their best, both him and Dany guiding the dragons to rain fire over the enemy, all the while struggling with not seeing properly. It was hard, having to both keep an eye out for the Night King and having to balance on the dragon's back, flying in a haste and bracing against the cold. For Jon even more so, not having enough experience. He almost knocked into Drogon, all their senses not accustomed to the weather.

Flying high above the clouds and fog in search of Daenerys, the moonlight shone brightly, a cold, white light, almost ominous.

A loud high pitched roar echoed behind him and he turned just in time to see the blue burst of flames as the Night King appeared, riding on the dead shell of Viserion. Rhaegal screeched, having no time to evade the attack, Jon hanging on tightly as he tried to avoid being burned alive. He was scared, both for his life and that of Rhaegal because he was not skilled in battling on dragons, he was much better on solid ground, sword drawn and swinging. He saw Rhaegal fight against his attacker, teeth gnawing and claws ripping into him, but it was not enough. Just as he was starting to panic, he saw the bright glow of fire as Drogon appeared behind Viserion, tearing him away from Jon. Rhaegal lost his balance, wavering in flight as Jon saw one of his wings injured. He watched helplessly as Dany and Drogon faced their enemy head on, his scorching orange fire meeting the blue icy flames of Viserion, a magnificent and equally terrifying sight. Rhaegal was failing at keeping himself in the air, descending dangerously fast, yet still not giving up.

Jon struggled to hold on, silently trying to see if Rhaegal could manage to return and help Drogon and Dany, but the dragon was failing, exhausted, falling. And Jon could now only see bright flashes of blue and orange from above him as he fell through the clouds.

When they landed, he kept his eyes trained on the scene above, fear gripping his heart as he thought of Dany fighting the Night King alone. He needed to be there, to protect her, though he knew she was strong and powerful, but she should not face their most feared enemy on her own. He came towards Rhaegal, running a hand over his nose as he let the dragon rest just for a few moments, silently encouraging him to return to help.

A deafening wail pierced the thick clouds above him and Jon could barely look up, in fear of what he would see. Never had he felt anything as strong as the fear right in that moment. Fear for Dany, fear that he was too late, fear that they had wasted their time together and now would not get anymore time. Their last encounter flashed through his mind, the last day having become his most miserable one and he only wished they would have had more time to discuss, that he would have had more time to process everything.

But. They had no time. And his feelings for her were very much the same. He _loved_ her. And he needed to keep her safe.

The large shadow of a dragon plummeting down as blue flames surrounded it made Jon stare, shocked into paralysis as he saw Drogon recover at the last minute and fly low, the blue fire and its source following swiftly. He rushed into action, climbing onto the dragon and urging Rhaegal to fly. Agonisingly slow, he complied and dragged himself up, wailing at his brother and mother as he tried to reach them in time.

The moment he heard the loud thump and felt the cold winds sweep harder around him, Jon knew. A dragon had fallen. He just had to hope and pray to all the Gods that it was not Drogon and that Dany was fine. But when Rhaegal finally landed, Jon froze.

The scene that greeted him was truly disturbing. Heartbreaking.

There, in the vast white landscape, amidst deep red, blood soaked snow lay Drogon, the most majestic creature that had roamed the Realm, his corpse unflinching as Viserion's teeth ripped into his flesh. The barbaric sight made Jon's stomach lurch, crippling fear invading his body.

_Dany_.

His eyes searched for her desperately, his feet carrying him closer, hand grabbing for his sword reflexively.

And when he got closer, heart thudding loudly against his chest, he saw her, right at the time that he saw the Night King standing a few yards behind her. He began to rush towards her, he saw that she was facing their enemy, had not yet known of his presence.

Dread filled him as he saw the unflinching stare of the Night King. He was looking straight into Jon's eyes. Dany was almost startled into turning around, Jon barely able to shout her name, to call for her to come to him. His voice was hoarse, he was tired and he could see the expectancy of something terrible on the Night King's face so he needed to first ensure Dany's safety.

A lone wail tore from the throat of Rhaegal, who was now further behind Jon, trying to regain his strength. He watched as Dany ran as fast as she could towards him, her silver hair whipping around her face, her once white furs now more than half painted in Drogon's blood. He hoped it was only dragon blood and not her own. But she ran fast, she did not seem injured. His sole concern was getting her to safety so that he could finally fight the Night King. And, as he kept an eye on him and continued to walk, to meet Dany halfway, Jon felt a cold chill run down his spine. There was something about the way that the Night King simply stood there, _watching_ that unnerved him.

Why wasn't he doing anything?

Just as another wail from Rhaegal pierced the silence, Jon felt Dany's body collide with his, finally. He lowered his sword, his hand circling her waist, supporting her, taking her into his arms. She was there, by his side, safe. Yet she felt so _cold_, her forehead was pressed into the side of his neck and she was literally freezing. He turned quickly to look into the face of the woman he loved, to press his lips to hers, to look at her and tell her he loved her, that he needed her safe.

Sheer horror gripped his heart as he finally met her eyes. Staring at him, hollow and so icy blue, instead of violet grey were the eyes that would haunt him forever.

Rhaegal echoed with a loud wail of despair the utter terror that Jon felt, realising that the most important woman in the world, the woman he loved, his **_Queen, _**his _**family **_was no longer fighting for the living.

His world came crashing down along with a few stray tears from his eyes. His sword felt heavy in his hand, eyes trained on her face, committing her features to memory. He knew now what the Night King had been waiting for, why the broken shell of Dany had not tried to kill him yet. He was meant to suffer, to see her like this, to see that he had lost, to see _what _he had lost.

And he had to make the ultimately impossible move- it was all clear. He would have to kill the woman he loved, to drive his sword through the body that he had so tenderly explored, to watch the same body disintegrate into dust and ice and be swept by the wind into oblivion. He would need to acknowledge his name and title, now feeling the weight of what it was like for Dany for all those years remaining alone, the last of his bloodline, no longer a bastard, a throne and a legacy thrust upon him, but still no closer to having a family, with no true sense of _belonging_. _Without her_.

His hands were shaking, muscles so tired, his brain and heart not concurring with what he needed to do.

"I'm so sorry! "

His voice a mere rasp, lost in the winds, his eyes clenched shut as his arm swung back. The swift return of his arm had his sword pierce right through the chest of the body that so much resembled _her_, but everything else was already gone, _she was gone_.

And that was how Aegon Targaryen awoke, a harsh scream tearing from his throat. It was a common recurrence for him now. The nightmares oftentimes so vivid it was like living it all again, only with different outcomes.

Sometimes he woke as he saw her dead icy eyes, other times he would see her body fall from her dragon and crumple into the icy ground, other times he would jump after her, trying desperately to catch her, to die with her. Not as often, he dreamt of her getting caught in the battle, overpowered by wights and all he could do was run towards her and be too fucking late. And others when she would be alone in facing their enemies, much as it had happened in reality, but here he could see her, could hear her screams, could watch her go through battle unprepared, alone and eventually die. Most of the times he saw her transformed into one of _them_, eyes so hollow that the sight would remain engraved in his head and then she would attack him, kill him in his final seconds of nightmare.

The absolute worst times were the ones when _he_ would need to_ kill her_.

He lost count of the distinct endings and developments of his nightmares, but they always revolved around her and him not being there to help.

As of late, Jon, still _Jon_, not having told the people about his lineage, was even more isolated and focused solely on rebuilding and regrouping. He had not even dared to face Daenerys and he was effectively busying himself in any place that he knew she would not be. It was a cowardly course of action and probably the very cause of his persistent nightmares, but he could not and would not know how to get out of this vicious circle.

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**Here is a piece I wrote inspired by all of the emotional turmoil that we all experienced in episode 3. I hope you enjoyed it, would love to hear your thoughts!**

**I have in mind a continuation from Dany's perspective so let me know if you'd like that. **


	2. Chapter 2

Her advisors were adamant about her immediate departure to Dragonstone, arranging for their remaining forces to travel ahead and meet whatever other people they would rally. Now, the northerners had finally begun to warm up to Daenerys, soldiers had thanked her, had welcomed her after the Great War as a proper Queen, as a _saviour_. And she had felt good, fulfilled, their purpose here accomplished.

Yet they had all lost so _much_.

They needed to regroup, to start working on their plan to get to King's Landing. But they kept postponing that discussion one hour at a time, for a day and a night now.

She first needed to talk to Jon.

At night, the first night after the battle, the silence had overwhelmed her, the darkness surrounding her, making her feel _empty_. Her eyes were dry, tears having long since ceased. Dany had cried in the confines of her chamber until she had no more strength to grieve. She had lost most of her armies and her oldest, most trusted friend and advisor. The man she loved was mere yards away from her, alive, but distant and she did not know how to proceed.

Her body ached, mostly because none of them had rested the day after the war. Every part of her was still burning with exhaustion, not being used to physical combat. She felt as if she had never left the battlefield, fighting, a pit of fear permanently in her stomach and heart thudding wildly inside her chest. She was agitated and anxious, unable to rest, her breathing erratic and body tense.

Of course she kept her wits about her when she was in public, they _all_ did, had started helping in taking care of the survivors, had been closely working with her advisors to also lend all their help to the wounded. She allowed herself to grieve only when she was alone. They were all still in shock after what they had been through, a silent and somber ambience looming over them, each dealing with it in thei own way.

The freezing cold had crept into her, seeping into her body ubidden and had settled deep in her bones.

Dany was just so _cold_, all the time.

Ever since the final battle, when she had found herself alone, facing the resurrected bodies of their people, helpless and scared, she just could not shake the _cold_. Ser Jorah had saved her, had come to her and she had needed to find her strength and help him, had been thrust into battle with no knowledge of how to even hold a sword. Yet she had been determined to survive, to help Jorah, to keep him alive, to _fight_ for him as he had done for her so many times. The sword she had struggled with picking up had been heavy, Dany barely able to hold it with both hands. Despite her fear, she _tried_. Because she had witnessed so many brave people die, she needed to fight, too, it could not all have been for nothing.

Now she had blood on her hands, the blood of the people she had failed to protect from the Night King.

And tragic as it was, she could have only hoped it would not have been in vain, that Jon would reach the Night King in time and end it all. They needed to make every sacrifice worth it, they needed to save the people that had remained standing, to end the long night.

Her dragons had always been the source of her power, she was relying on them, they were her strength. Yet, there, on solid ground, surrounded by enemies, her strength had originated from Jorah, the one man that had been there for her since the beginning, the one that had loved her the most. And she drew power from him, _for_ him.

Losing him in the end had been devastating.

Jorah, the man that she had banished from her side, the man that had returned to her so many times, _loyal_ and brave, always trying to help her, show her that he loved her. He would just _be there_, she knew that she could rely on him, he was the anchor that kept her grounded, the man that protected her from the beginning, the only one who knew how to handle her.

She had lost the person she had trusted the most, the person that knew her better than she sometimes knew herself. And she _was_ lost without him. In that moment, her body bowed over his corpse, it felt like she was back to the beginning, _alone_, _again_, in a foreign land, without armies, without the one man that had been there for her her entire life, who had witnessed her whole transformation. These people didn't know who she had once been, nobody _knew_ her, not _truly_, not completely, not like Jorah had known her. Without him she was afraid she would go astray.

She had already felt out of place in the North, no matter how many people she had with her, even if she was with Jon, she just hadn't felt welcomed. And at first neither her nor her people had really been welcomed.

Dany had sobbed over his body, shedding tears for Jorah, for her Dothraki and Unsullied, not bothering to hide her sorrow, nobody there to hear her screams. Drogon had joined her, his wings spreading around her protectively, sharing in her emotional breakdown. She had cried until she was numb, in the end only looking down on Jorah, cradling his body in her arms, silently saying her goodbye, _thanking_ him, promising that his death would not be for nothing. She remembered having felt someone's approach. It had been Grey Worm, his body rigid, but eyes full of sorrow. She had been glad to see him, grateful to accept his outstretched hand as she rose, standing to her feet and thus refusing to succumb to grief. The Unsullied commander only bowed his head, muttered a silent "Valar Morghulis" and told her that they were already starting to build funeral pyres.

Soon after, they had found Missandei and their reunion was heartfelt, comforting as they embraced each other. Everything after that had been a blurr. And she couldn't deny that there was one other person that she felt she needed, the comfort of his arms - her solace. Still. She didn't have that option now. He had taken that away from her, had taken _himself_ away from her.

After the night of the war, after all those terrible moments dreading their demise, at nihht time seemed to stretch, her head swarming with speculations and driving herself mad because of it. She had hoped that once the battle was over, they would both rest, having enough time to process the news of his heritage, yet he avoided her.

Her whole life was falling apart just in the moment when it was supposed to be falling into place perfectly. Her life goal and her legacy were now not as directly within her reach anymore, not even _hers_ anymore, and she was utterly conflicted.

In these hours they had not met. And she still felt worried about him, could only wonder how he was faring in the aftermath, how injured he was. Daenerys had never been so directly involved in a battle before, had not known what it meant to fight on the ground, sword swinging, had not known how to handle her armies dying in such great number.

They had won and it had been _devastating_ all the same.

She was now an emotional mess, panicked, not sure what to do. She wished Jorah was there, to help her understand her own mind, to keep her emotional turmoil at bay. Dany was not used to having so much trouble getting her thoughts and feelings in order. She remembered when she had left Daario and she had felt _nothing. _Well, with Jon she felt _everything. _It was gruelling and she was beyond frustrated with both the situation and herself for not having control over her own heart.

Jon was unlike anyone else. Apparently he was her own flesh and blood.

And she feared that link because ever since she could remember she had known that family by blood for her had meant _abuse_, meant being under someone's control. She had wanted to change her views on family, had nearly succeeded in building herself a new family with Drogo and deep in her heart she had wished it again with Jon, but now, she felt like she had failed.

And she felt disappointed in herself for allowing into her mind the smallest thoughts and fears of reverting to her old, _weak_ self, the little girl that did her brother's bidding, forced into obedience because he was her 'King'.

Daenerys had long since disregarded all type of authority. Precisely because of her experience with her brother.

And now, Jon had been thrust into the Targaryen bloodline higher on the lineage than herself, in a position of power over her and she did not know how he would approach the matter.

Dany had been raised by Viserys with bygone beliefs that he had made sure would be so deeply ingrained in her mind. Beliefs about succession and heritage and bloodlines and hierarchy and she had worked so hard to build herself up into a person worthy of all the titles she had now. And here she found herself, now faced with an impossible admission, that she was not the next in line, that, by all of her old beliefs, she was now to _step aside_ in favor of Jon, _surrender_ all that she had spent her life working on, surrender her power, her crown. But he had not even asked anything of her. He hadn't even talked about it and therein lay the problem.

How was she to just trust this sudden and most unexpected reveal?! How should she cope with it? She had seen her fair share of magic - yes - and had had visions and believed in so many prophecies, yet _this _shocked her as much as it had rattled him. And she knew he hadn't expected it, had seen it in his eyes, but what happened after that? What was he thinking now?

And what was _she_ to think about him now? Why was he avoiding her? Why _again_, after the battle? Had she not proved that she loved him, still? Did _he_ care about the title and throne more than he cared about her? Would he be more like her late brother now, seduced by power and by supremacy over her? Would he see himself entitled to hurt and belittle her ?

She shook her head in denial and anger with herself. He was not like that and clearly he was the one who was more conflicted over this. How could she think such horrible things? Now she truly feared that some of that Targaryen madness was getting to her. She had long since overcome the feeling of inferiority and she hated that creeping contradiction she currently felt. She knew Jon. She _loved_ him. He was _nothing_ like Viserys.

Dany loathed that her thoughts drifted so far back, to her brother, having long since overcome her fear of him. But she had also thought that she was the last Targaryen, which was no longer true so her mind brought back the only memories she had of the only other Targaryen she had known.

But who could have ever noticed Jon's true heritage? It was hardly outlined on his physical features, evident only in his stubbornness, his temper, his affinity for the Dragons, how he'd reached out to them and touched them and had been accepted as _family_.

Physically she couldn't see any resemblance to Viserys' face, the only other Targaryen that she had actually ever met. She had always imagined Rhaegar with silver blonde hair, his eyes light violet grey, had heard those were the very distinctive features of their family. She supposed that he got most of his appearance from his mother, which is how he had passed as a Stark bastard for all those years. It even made sense that Ned Stark would hide his true parentage because otherwise he would have been killed or hunted down just like she and Viserys had been.

But he was definitely not a bastard. He was equal parts Stark and Targaryen. Her brother's son. Her nephew. Her family. Withal, he had been spared from the burden of the Targaryen ancestry, had matured on his own, with different _ethics_ and had turned out to be the most honorable man she'd ever met. He wanted to save the Realm, had fought bravely to help the people. He was just as worthy as she was, from the people's perspective and now, also _by blood_, having been also chosen, proven himself in battle so many times and now knowing he was of the right heritage.

Their stories were so discreetly alike in so many ways. On opposite sides of the world, both having been beaten down, suppressed and both rising strong, on their own, freeing people, offering them a choice, presenting the people with other type of governing and being supported by whole nations. Constantly improving themselves with determination, always fighting, always withstanding and defying the odds.

Through all that Daenerys had experienced up until then, she had persevered, had birthed her dragons by _fire and blood_, had used the power that they had given her, that the _people_ have given her to start righting the wrongs that she saw in the world.

Because she had seen injustice in the world, and no one stopping it. She has seen slavery, and no one stopping it. She had seen innocent people - _children_, being hung on wooden posts and left to die, and no one would help. She had seen women being raped and defiled, and no one would stop it. Because _she_ had been chased away from her home, sold by her own brother just like a slave, had been raped and belittled and she swore never to allow those feelings to come back to her. So she decided to help the abused and oppressed, she had needed to because she was the only one who had wanted to and had had both the power of fire and blood and the support of the people to break the wheel.

Every one of her followers had _chosen_ to stand beside her. Every one of her soldiers had chosen to fight for her, to _die_ for her. And now, even though they were smaller in number, they still had faith in her, they still stayed, they had defeated the dead, had succeeded. And even more people saw her now for what she was: a _liberator_, not a conqueror.

Dany had sworn to herself not to be weak ever again. And she would never _bend the knee. _Now, she understood clearly Jon's initial outright refusal to do so and accept her as Queen, now she was in the position he had been when they had met. However, back then, Jon had not known her and now, she _knew_ him.

Just as she had once discussed with Tyrion in Dragonstone, she had been through so much already that she knew she could not afford to think that far ahead. Meeting with Jon was her priority now.

And then they could have their Council with the rest of the lords. The ones that remained. Just how they couldn't afford to think directly about _what_ to do _after_ they defeated Cersei Lannister. Not yet. They needed to know how to defeat her, first. They had underestimated her one too many times. Even now, after having defeated the army of the dead, or _because _of that, they had less people to fight and had no idea what Cersei had been doing while they had led an excruciating war in which they lost so many. There was too much uncertainty and it was clear that they needed not only Tyrion's mind to figure out how to proceed.

They _all_ needed to reconcile, to rest and gather their forces and come together, _all of them_, _again_ if they wanted to succeed.

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**Ok, so, first of all, I needed to include a proper farewell to the great Ser Jorah, I hope you agree. And Daenerys is such a complex character for me to write. I just needed her to go through every emotion that she had bottled up. I think that she deserves a better analysis of all that she is going through. I brought up Viserys and her beginning in hopes of exploring her development and I hope at least I managed to explain my view on it properly.**

**Thank you for the response, would greatly appreciate your outlook on this chapter as well ! **


	3. Chapter 3

"You look awful." Arya stepped into Jon's path noiselessly.

And he knew he did look awful, what with every moment of sleep he got being invaded by nightmares of Dany and the Night King. They all flitted through his mind so rapidly that he knew, even in a few hours of sleep that he would be tormented by countless different scenarios. Hence, he resorted to not sleep.

"I've been worse." He relented, already not surprised at her ability to sneak up on him.

"You know what I meant. Why are you here?" She carried on, walking alongside him down the corridor towards his chamber.

He had been helping with plans of rebuilding, only talking to Ser Davos and coming out to the funeral pyres. He looked tired, _exhausted, _but only just barely bruised, with few physical scars.

"Where else would I be?" It _was_ night time after all. But he could not fool her. Arya pointedly looked at him. They both knew what she had been referring to.

"Arya... you have _no idea_" A deep exhale followed his words, but was quickly interrupted.

"But I do, Jon. I _know._" She insisted, making sure that he understood what she meant.

"Of course. Nothing gets past you now." Jon smiled, huffing a breath in amusement and incredulity. It was incredible how much Arya had changed- how mature she had become. And he had been so proud that she had killed the Night King. He had rushed after her into the Godswood, beyond relieved that it had all finally _ended_.

He had never been a man of many words and was grateful that at least Arya knew him well enough to understand. Reuniting with her had truly been the best part of coming to Winterfell. He really had missed her.

By now, they had reached his chamber and entered, effectively eliminating the chance of being overheard.

"Did you stick him with the pointy end?" Jon mirthfully asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to divert the attention from him. He had been dying to ask her. And she actually chuckled at hearing this, their playful banter always a means of coping with weighty conversations.

"I did. Thank you, by the way." Arya stopped pacing around him, a serious expression on her face, her hands behind her back as she looked him in the eye.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He feigned ignorance, not being one to crave recognition. He had only helped as he had seen fit. It was his duty, nothing to bring special attention to.

"Yeah, you do. That dragon was standing in my way." She answered lightly, already having known that he would not mention it, but still acknowledging his help, his intent of sacrifice, his bravery. It was so typical Jon.

A silent chuckle left Jon's lips. _Nothing did_ get past Arya now. A single nod was shared by them, as all the confirmation and mutual gratitude. They were quite alike, both modest, content on their quiet mutual respect, not needing further words. This was enough of a heart-to-heart discussion, they understood each other, had always had a way of communicating simply, light-hearted.

"Speaking of dragons…would you not go to her?" Arya pressed the matter.

"Arya…" He sighed, not even knowing where to begin.

"I'm not an idiot. You _love _her. Everyone knows." They had always talked teasingly, smart mouthed. It was their most defining thing.

"Dany and I…we…we're…" He stuttered, faced with the impossibility to express exactly what they were. He was still in shock, not necessarily prepared to address the truth of their connection and what it meant.

"I _know_." Arya emphasized the word with another pointed look, her hand gripping his arm. The sharpness of her mind should not surprise him any longer, yet, he took great comfort in her understanding look.

"Gods, Arya. I _love _her…she's so…" Jon was unable to find words to describe just how he felt, how _much_ he felt for her. He was beyond frustrated.

"She's like something out of a _song_, your Queen - **A song of Ice and Fire. **I saw her ride her dragon into battle, fire and ice surrounding her. She's _extraordinary._" Arya supplied him with words, now confessing that she had really been impressed by the Dragon Queen and her role in the Great War.

Jon was pleased to hear her talk about Dany, to see the look of innocent admiration on Arya's face and to hear the appreciation that _he _had for Dany be shared by someone so important to him. She had seen the strong, determined vision that was Daenerys on the back of her dragon, an elegance to her ruthlessness that rivalled the one of the Faceless men. She had made the perfect image of a fierce, powerful Queen, confident and alluring in battle from the bystander point of view, yet, brave and unforgiving facing her enemies. Arya could see why so many people would follow her, would pledge their swords to her. Dany _was_ awe-inspiring.

"Aye. A true _dragon._" Jon softened, a small smile on his lips as he listened to his sister talk about the woman he loved.

"And so are _you_." She continued, with a calculated look.

He sighed. Of course, she knew _this_, too. And he remembered something, then.

"When we met, you already _knew._ You told me to not forget we are _family._" Jon concluded, not really sure if he wanted to go down that road. He now knew he had legitimate Stark blood in his veins, thus, making him a _true _part of the family.

"Yes. But you will always be _Jon _to me." Arya hugged him, both her words and actions unwavering with sincerity. And Jon couldn't be more thankful in that moment. He found refuge in her words, knowing that Arya's fondness would remain unchanged by his heritage.

"You're probably the _hundredth_ of your name, by now. Aegon Targaryen, hundredth of his name, Protector of the Realm, Defender of the wall" Arya chanted, exaggeratingly, amused at Jon for trying to keep a straight face. And she went on and on with titles that she made up in the moment, again reverting to the thing they were best at. Arya had never been one to consider proper conduct and speech. That was what made her and Jon so alike, what made them get along so greatly.

"…the Resurrected, the _Unfrozen, _the White Wolf, the freer of the Free Folk, the King in the North and King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and… the whole lot of them" She finished and Jon snorted a laugh, shaking his head at the situation.

They shared a real laugh in what seemed like ages. He knew that only Arya could have been capable of getting such a response from him, to bring out that young, exuberant side of him. One that he had not had the time to show in ages.

"But seriously, what are you going to do?" Arya added, a smile still on her lips.

"I don't even _want_ that bloody throne."

"You sort _that_ out with _Dany_. Just don't go shouting that you don't 'till you decide." Arya intervened.

"I don't care about _any of that._" Sam _had_ made an uproar about Dany's priority being the throne and not her feelings. Although, Jon _knew _her, he had gotten to see her for who she was and he had not wanted to doubt her feelings, but he had been shocked and thrust into the whole _game of thrones_ when all he ever wanted was to belong, to know _who_ he was, to find his family. He had only ever wanted to _not _be a bastard.

"I don't know…what if she doesn't feel the same anymore?" His voice came out strong at the beginning, but dwindled and ended up whispering the last words.

"You're kidding, right? She came here for _you, Jon,_ sacrificed most of her armies and fought to protect _us_, let you ride her dragon, saved your sorry arse in battle, what more proof do you need? Go, talk to her."

Arya interrupted his train of thought, her words of wisdom actually making sense. And he knew that. Dany did not deserve his behaviour. And both of them needed to talk to figure things out. Enough talking to other people, enough avoiding the issue.

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**Thanks for reading!**

**Yes, I felt the need to include this talk between Arya and Jon. She definitely knew about his parentage and would approach him straight on about his situation. I always loved their dialogue and it was hard to come up with witty, funny remarks, you tell me if it's good.**

**It would be only fair to give Dany a push into sorting it out, but would it be Missandei, Tyrion or Arya? **

**Review and let's see. **


	4. Chapter 4

Dany's eyes felt like she had rubbed them raw after not only crying so much, but also staying awake. She just had too much on her mind, and sleep had not come to her since the battle, anyway. She knew Tyrion and Varys were already keeping a close eye on her to see any sign of her becoming mad just like her father, but she didn't care. She would cry if she wanted to, then she would pull herself back up and go on.

Though…how could she really explain her constant crying and her moods swinging so rapidly from one to another?

Surely the war had affected her more than she could ever have been prepared for. When she felt like her thoughts had once again drifted into dangerous territory, again to the battle and her losses and the strategy for the war to come, she abruptly stood up, almost losing her balance in the process. She was in a rush to get away from her rather ominous thoughts. She needed to calm down first and then try to sleep.

So, Dany started wandering down the halls of Winterfell, ignoring her tired limbs and the cold enveloping her. She was free to walk around, silently, thankful that there were no people out to see her. She had been afraid, emotional, was now completely exhausted and she had no idea what to do with all of the feelings raging inside her body. Knew she needed to calm down, rest and then, in the morning talk to Jon.

She walked aimlessly, having initially planned to go to Jon's chamber right then, in the middle of the night, but realized that she did not know where that was. Winterfell was a rather intricate maze of corridors lined with cold stone walls and she had the feeling that they were closing in on her. Of course, she was cold and she kept pulling her cloak closer to her body, but it did not actually help.

A strong feeling of someone watching her crept into her mind, looking behind her back, so lost in thought that when her body collided with someone else's, she almost lost her balance. She was grateful to feel timid hands grip hers, steadying her. Her eyes fell upon the face of the other person and felt a sense of calmness take over her.

"Missandei" A slight hint of surprise laced her voice, seeing her friend apparently sneaking out of Grey Worm's chamber.

"Your Grace… " She looked sheepishly at the door she had exited from, a shy smile on her face. Dany may not know her way around too well, but she did know that Missandei's chamber was right next to her own, definitely _not_ here.

Dany smiled knowingly at the girl, relieved to have some of their light interactions back. She caught the twinkle of mischief in Missandei's eyes, both sharing a light giggle, in full awareness of what was happening. Dany- who had wanted to sneak _into_ Jon's room, but not knowing which one it was and her friend just sneaking _out_ of her lover's room. At least she and Grey Worm had each other, she was glad that they had found solace in each other.

"How are you, my friend? " Dany held onto her hands, both in comfort for her and in need of reassurance _from _her, that she was not entirely alone.

"I… Don't know. I feel I should be happy, but I cannot be." Missandei looked at her Queen and friend, struggling to express her feelings.

"I understand. We all need to mourn our losses. And how is _he_? " Dany asked, inclining her head towards the door from where Missandei had exited. Grey Worm had been so strong both mentally and physically during the Great War and she could only imagine what he was going through after losing so many of his men.

"He had nightmares, barely _now_ resting" The woman sighed, clearly not having rested much, either.

"Walk with me?" Dany offered, seeing that they both needed a bit of distraction. And she nodded, starting to head back towards her chamber. Hopefully without getting lost in the meantime.

"I'm sorry about Ser Jorah. He was a loyal man." Missandei continued, after a small pause. Knowing her Queen, she saw perfectly clear that Dany had not slept, had also been crying and knew that she needed some comfort.

"He was and he will be remembered" Dany vowed, her eyes hardening again with grief, but also knowing he would forever remain in her heart, having a special place next to memories of Drogo, their child and Viseryon.

Missandei had been the one to ensure that every tradition of each of their people for the funeral pyres was met properly. Had chanted the appropriate words, in each distinct language, making sure they were given the respect they deserved. And Dany was once again more than grateful for having her.

"Should I bring you something to help you sleep, Your Grace?" Missandei offered, interrupting her thoughts. She did not know how else to get her to rest because she _knew _Daenerys and she knew that in the morning, the Queen shall want to have a council and start again with whatever else was needed to be done.

"Would you stay with me? For a little while? Just like the last time Jorah left." Dany remembered, from what seemed like ages ago when she had found comfort and tranquility in just staying in silence with Missandei in front of the fire.

"Of course." And they stood silent on the furs, Missandei starting to instinctively braid Dany's hair, adding yet another braid for the victory. Dany had been feeling better now that she had Missandei and she knew that she was loyal to her, had needed her presence to be able to calm her nerves. She hadn't wanted to burden her friend with her problems, too, but she was the person who she trusted the most now.

"I need your advice."

And Daenerys led her friend and closest advisor in front of the fire in her, on the bed, settling down and told her everything. Told her the truth, told her how she was conflicted and confused and sought Missandei's council. She trusted her to analyse the situation and maybe help her figure out how to proceed. Because she was sure that her loyalty was _not_out of duty or because of heritage and succession, but out of trust in _her as a person_. Which is why Dany sought out her advice, knowing that she might even help her understand her feelings. And Dany allowed her time to think on it, keeping silent as she stretched out on the fur, resting her head in her friend's lap.

"But, Your Grace…by my knowledge, don't Targaryens marry _into _the family? Would you not marry and _share _the throne? Forgive me if I'm mistaken or overstepping…" Missandei concluded, not sure how Dany would react.

Missandei was not used to thinking in terms of succession and proper hierarchical politics. She did know, however the politic of arranged marriage and had thought it was her Queen's plan from the beginning for Jon Snow. She had witnessed their shared looks for quite a while, their feelings evident to everyone who saw them. So, she just did not see the problem. If anything, it should be more obvious of a choice to marry not only for politics, but mostly for love. And they clearly loved each other. She knew why Daenerys had avoided the subject until now, even before learning the truth. Her advisors had so often frowned upon her little interactions with Jon and the Queen had oftentimes not taken their advice when it came to Jon. So, it was easy to believe that they would have been skeptical at their not so political reasons to marry. But what if it _was _that easy?

After a long, pause, Missandei actually started worrying at the lack of any type of response. She did not even see Dany's face to see her expression, but, as she shifted a bit, noticed that the Queen was currently asleep. Exhaustion had claimed her. Sighing, Missandei gently lifted her head and placed a pillow under Dany's head, silently bringing another fur over her and went back towards Grey Worm, knowing that she would need to repeat her question next time they met.

* * *

Arya Stark had stumbled upon the Dragon Queen in the middle of the night, roaming the halls alone, seemingly without a specific destination in mind. Arya had just left after her talk with Jon, feeling good about setting him straight with a few things.

At first, seeing the Queen looking over her shoulder, wary, Arya started assessing the dangers herself, yet there were none, because _she _was the thing that Dany was sensing. Still, curious, she followed her silently, from a distance, watching as shadows of sorrow swept over her face with every passing torch from the hallway. She seemed conflicted, distraught and utterly exhausted.

Arya found that she quite admired the Dragon Queen. Even now, trailing behind her, seeing her walk alone, cautious from one hall to the next looking tired to the bone, she saw that _human_ part of her and admired her all the more. It was a vulnerability which Arya knew must not come to the surface often. Much like herself.

She wanted to talk to her, felt the need to at least give her some sort of reassurance from at least one member of their family. Seeing as Sansa disliked her so openly, Jon now avoiding her because he was just plain stupid, Arya wanted to step in and give her some assurance. But she knew that Daenerys did not trust her, she didn't _know_ her, so it would not have done her good to fluster her further. So, she decided against going to her, maybe next time.

* * *

When first daylight broke, Jon had already exited his chamber, intent clear in the sureness of his steps. He walked outside, drawing in a deep breath, allowing the cold air to clear his mind. He had gotten just a couple of hours of sleep, at least being able to rest enough after his conversation with Arya.

Jon walked through the snow briskly, the wind sweeping over him, having felt the need to check how Rhaegal was healing after the battle. He had come yesterday, as well, to see how he was faring, the echo of the dragon's screech still imbedded in his mind. When he had landed after the fight, Jon had been too focused on the final goal, running after the Night King, but as soon as he had had the time, he had gone to see the dragon.

Now, approaching both of them, he was pleased to see that they had eaten, that Rhaegal seemed to be healing quite quickly. He had no knowledge of them, what was normal, how fast they healed, but was pleased to notice the familiar greeting that they gave him. He got closer, now both him and the dragons accustomed to each other. A small huff of breath came from Drogon as Jon first went to check on Rhaegal and placed his hand on his snout affectionately. Then, he treated Drogon with the same courtesy, which the dragon accepted with another huff.

He had warmed up to these 'gorgeous beasts' as he had once referred to them. They were so much more, very intelligent, very instinctual and very dangerous for those who were not on their side.

Just as he was contemplating that, he felt what would have been considered a nudge, but with a force that had actually made him stumble a few steps. Rhaegal was trying to get his attention. A laugh escaped through Jon's lips, who would have thought that he would be petting dragons and getting along with such uncommon creatures. One of which, by the looks of it wanted him to ride him.

With another glance towards Drogon, he climbed onto Rhaegal and then held onto him as best as he could. He was surprised to see Drogon follow behind them. It was as thrilling as ever to fly, feeling so _free_ and he watched as Drogon flew in circles over them, as though protective, watching over his injured brother. Jon was smiling, loving their interaction, yet, he missed having Dany there with them. It was somewhat of a given that she would be there, that they would fly all of them - _together_.

Lost in thought and completely focused on the dragon, he missed when Drogon swerved back towards the ground to meet his mother.

Dany had been quite surprised when she had woken up and realized that she had really slept. She had been exhausted physically from not resting and emotionally from recounting everything to Missandei. She fell asleep before she could have learned the woman's opinion, both grateful for getting sleep and frustrated that she missed the piece of advice.

So, as soon as she awoke, as she often did first thing, she went to see her dragons. And, now, to her surprise, they were both high up over the grounds, flying gracefully in tandem. It was a relief to see Rhaegal fly, to know that he was recovering from the wounds. When Drogon had turned to come to her, only then did she notice that Rhaegal was not alone, that Jon was with him.

A loud thudding footfall sounded just behind her and she knew that Drogon had landed. She was smiling as she placed her hand on the dragon's snout, having missed the simple moments where she could cherish her children without any impending battles. She just stood there, took a moment, listening to the low rumble of Drogon's breath before they turned and simply watched Jon and Rhaegal.

Silent and slow, for once, Arya approached the scene. She had been there to witness Jon fly up with both dragons, how carefree and _happy_ he looked. She hoped that whatever may come their way, they would still have time to smile, to relish even in small moments of peace.

The Stark girl walked up near Dany, the dragon readily turning her way. It was a whole other sensation to see them up close. Arya felt like a child again, excited at the sight of these creatures that everyone thought extinct. And she was mesmerized by his eyes, they reflected intelligence far beyond that of any other animal. She didn't necessarily feel frightened, but she was a little uneasy. Though, she noticed that the dragon was only regarding her, appraising her.

Daenerys turned as she felt Drogon's head shift to the side. Her eyes landed upon the figure of Arya Stark. She saw something in this young girl, knew that she had been the one to end the Night King, knew just how skilled she was, but also, could see a youthful exuberance that made Arya so much easier to like than her sister.

"Lady Stark" Daenerys started, not sure how to interact with her, but was quickly interrupted.

"I'm not a lady, please, it's just Arya." A small nod was all the response she gave and a smile spread on her face, genuine, the little girl reminding her so much of Jon.

They then heard Rhaegal roar and she turned to see him survey her, Jon finally noticing why Drogon had gone back. Arya diverted her gaze, too, a smile on her face, seeing a similar light-hearted expression on Jon's face as he looked down at Daenerys. He did look every bit the part of a man in love. Arya almost felt like she was intruding on their moment, but then he saw her, too, which seemed to shock him a bit. That didn't really last because apparently, he was trying to guide the dragon to come to them.

But, Dany yelled a quick word in what Arya could only guess was High Valeryan and the dragon roared back, staying in the air. And, as Arya turned towards Dany, she saw that she was already mounting the dragon.

"Are you coming, Arya?" Daenerys yelled after the girl, outstretching her hand in further invitation, a little amused at the stunned look on her face.

Arya was beyond taken aback by the suggestion. She had been wanting to know what it was like to ride a dragon since she had seen them. Never thought she would actually be doing it. And she saw this as just another reason for her to like Daenerys, to admire her.

Daenerys felt the small hand of Arya Stark lightly grip hers as she climbed in front of her, on Drogon's back, the same hand that had killed their strongest enemy. _What a thought._ Never had she considered being afraid of the girl standing in front of her now, not because she looked so young, but because she saw the genuine smile Jon would give Arya anytime they met, he trusted her completely. Arya Stark had saved them all, had proved that she was a most valuable warrior, had earned all their respect and gratitude. And they might even get along well.

"Hold on" Dany told her before Drogon took off, a laugh of complete excitement resounding around them from Arya.

It was beyond anything that she could have imagined. Arya felt the wind hit her face, the speed of the dragon only making her that much more excited. They were so high up, every man inside and outside the walls of Winterfell only appearing as small as ants, her _home_ so small from up above. And she could see so far out in the distance, the land stretching before them endlessly. She was overjoyed, allowing a laugh of incredulity to leave her lips.

Even from up there, Jon would have recognized her any time. Arya was with Dany, standing in front of Drogon, watching him fly, smiles visible on both their faces despite the long distance between them. And, just as he wanted to fly down to them, he saw Dany mount Drogon and offer her hand to Arya. Just then, he knew for sure he would not hear the end of it…

Maybe they were all going to be all right.

* * *

**So, I rushed to finish this chapter before the new episode airs tonight. I wanted to give you my take on those little scenes with the dragons from the trailer. **

**Also, I always thought that Arya just **_**had**_** to ride a dragon, she deserves it. **

**And what did you think of Missandei in this chapter? Would that be _too_ easy?**

**Please review and let me know what you think! Thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

'Thank her properly for me, will you?' Arya told Jon after she had quickly come to meet him once they had reached the ground. Rhaegal had still been too tired to fly for long so he had stopped somewhere on the far corner of the Godswood, further out into the field. And Drogon had soon followed, Dany making her way towards the hurt dragon, leaving Arya and Jon behind to talk.

Jon only nodded at Arya, seeing right through her intentions of leaving him alone with Dany, and he smiled, thankful. His eyes were already averted to Daenerys and Rhaegal. She had rushed to her dragon when they had landed and Jon was once again struck by the ardent love that she had for those creatures.

He approached her, silently, not really wanting to interrupt the moment. It was emotional and so peaceful all at once to see her after the battle, unharmed, to finally have this moment alone with her. He was grateful to Arya for having left them alone, needing this time to be only by themselves.

He hadn't had time to even concern himself about exactly _how _to begin, what to say to her. Just seeing her was as far as he had come to planning. Now, with her so close, his feet carried him on their own accord closer, he gravitated towards her inadvertently, instinctually. And he watched her, a small smile on his face at the care with which she treated Rhaegal, her hand on his snout evidently comforting to the dragon. She did not seem to even pay attention to him, so focused and devoted to her child. He was so close to her now, not able to resist closing the distance between them and placing his own hand over hers.

From the position of their bodies now so closely together, Jon could actually _feel _the effect that this small gesture of his had over her. Besides her initial small gasp, her body reacted to him with a shiver, her muscles tense against him as he entwined their fingers and, as a need for just _one _moment of comfort, he leaned his head on her shoulder, his nose burrowing into her temple.

"Dany" A slight whisper that made her heart melt. He didn't continue. They both knew he wanted to say so much more and she wanted to say so many things, too.

But this moment, this _one time_ could they not simply stay like that and comfort each other?

Daenerys had been so pleasantly surprised by his closeness, the gesture so simple, yet so strongly meaningful. He was comforting her, comforting her dragon, comforting _himself_. She was rooted on the spot, yielding to his affections, feeling his embrace, his whole body enveloping hers, his hand so secure and tender over hers, his breath so warm over her neck. A shiver racked her whole body when she heard her name falling from his lips, so closely whispered against her ear. He could just provoke so many sensations with just so little effort, it was unnerving her, but it also felt as if it was crucial to understand his intentions clearly. She did _not _afford to misinterpret _him._

"We _should_…" She whispered back, unwilling to continue, knowing that it would end this moment of peace.

And then, she turned in his embrace, her eyes so full of sorrow, yet, also with need, a need reflected right back in his eyes. They had shared too much, were clearly _feeling_ so many things for each other that they just needed to make sure the other was there, they needed a moment to relish in their victory, without all the attention from so many others.

"Later." Jon replied, his hand still holding hers, not ready to let her go. Going against anything that both had been planning, it was an absolutely different aspect to face each other. Words were just not as important as the _emotional connection._

They both felt Rhaegal distance himself, a cold gust of wind coming over them after the loss of the dragon's warmth as he went back to settle next to Drogon, to rest.

In a deliberate, slow gesture, Dany removed her glove, reaching out towards his face, her delicate fingers gracing over the cut on his cheekbone. Jon stood there silently, allowing her to take whatever step she wished, his eyes closing as he felt her cold fingertips on his face. Her touch was so gentle, so tender. And she was freezing. Her skin even colder than his cheek.

"You're freezing, Dany" He pointed out by taking her hand in both of his and bringing it to his lips. A blow of warm breath from his mouth and a lingering kiss left on her hand later and Dany was lost on words. She didn't know how to proceed, his actions both so tender and so bittersweet.

_Were_ they what they had been before?

Seeing that she didn't even acknowledge the fact, Jon pulled off his fur cloak and placed it over Dany's body, without leaving room for discussion. He was never too good with words, after all. So, he wrapped his cloak around Dany, his hands absentmindedly going into her hair to pull it out from under the cloak. His move so natural, so affectionate and still so careful, leaning in closer so that he could see her braids and not disturb them. Dany closed her eyes, so affected by such a simple gesture that she did not dare say a word, her forehead resting on his chest, hands coming to rest on his sides, holding onto him, knowing that they may very well be sharing their last moment _alone_ like this.

She held onto him, breathing in his scent, feeling his fingers linger into her hair reverently, almost as if afraid to do anything else. Because anything else might just force them to face reality.

And they were both conflicted, extremely frustrated and with hearts beating erratically, with the same anticipation that had been eating at them for countless nights that they spent on the boat. They had become unguarded with each other so many nights ago, had relinquished their reluctance and had succumbed to their desires. And, now, they reacted involuntarily, drawn together by more primal instincts after having denied themselves for so long.

Jon pulled back, fingers settling at the nape of her neck, his thumbs drawing circles under her jaw as he brought her face to look up at him. For a brief moment, they just looked into each-other's eyes. Silent, conveying all the emotional turmoil. Then, his hands slowly started dragging down her shoulders, pulling the furs closer to her body, his eyes following the movement before settling on the three headed dragon brooch that she wore. His fingers glided over it, as if mesmerized, hand stopping over Dany's heaving breast, leaving her even more flustered.

She had physically abstained from any sort of contact since they had come to Winterfell, having been unsure about their surroundings, not really knowing how to behave around northerners. That was even _before_ he had told her the truth about his heritage. And, now, her body was reacting intensely to even the smallest touch from him.

"Jon…" As if only realising their intimate position when he heard her uncertain whisper, Jon gazed back up at her, a deep yearning settling in his chest. His eyes dark and smouldering, his unsteady breath fanning over her face, he allowed impulse to take over and leaned in to kiss her.

The moment that she met his eyes, she felt a fire erupt in her veins, aware that they were clearly losing even the last shred of control. When their lips finally connected it was like all the passion and _need_ they had been harbouring for each other had burst into an inferno of desperation and love.

Her hands reached around his waist, bringing him closer, while his lips parted hers, deepening their kiss. Dany's soft moan spilled off of her tongue and onto his, a pleasure filled response to the maddening touch of his fingers threading into her hair and tilting her head back. He was lost in the taste of her, his senses overcome with everything that was _her_: the softness of her hair, the warmth of her mouth, the little whimper that she made when his teeth closed over her lip and then soothed the bite with his tongue.

It was almost too much. Dany's head was spinning, pleasure coursing through her body after so long that she could feel her knees weaken. She felt everything heightened, intensely aware of his every move. And she almost lost it when she felt Jon's lips leave hers only to descend on her neck, warm and wanton, his teeth, tongue and lips leaving a devastating trail of delight in their wake.

They were suddenly interrupted by the loud growl of Drogon and both startled, they broke apart abruptly, still very much flustered and without having even brought up the one thing they had both intended to discuss. But they should have been thankful: the dragon had only tried to warn them that a running figure could be seen just yards away, coming from the castle.

Out of breath and barely walking, they could now see that it was Ser Davos that had almost caught them.

"Your Grace and…your Grace? Pardon the interruption." Ser Davos stuttered, trying to breathe normally after his exertion and also quite surprised at the scene he had stumbled upon. He most definitely had interrupted something, alright. And, noticing Jon's cloak on the shoulders of the Dragon Queen along with the redness of both their lips, he had to keep from smiling mischievously.

"I was sent to get you. The council wanted to gather now, before the great celebratory feast that they prepared for tonight"

Completely unsure how to respond and even more aware that they had gotten carried away and not really _talked _about anything, they both nodded and started following behind Ser Davos. Guiltily, they shared a long look, Dany slowly pulling off the cloak to give back to him before anyone saw. They didn't need _that_ much more attention drawn to them. And, as tempted as he was to urge her to keep it, because he did not care about what anyone said, she seemed to know that others would find many more things to say about that.

* * *

**This one was not really plot-concentrated, but my thoughts had been a bit all over the place, what with the show rushing into so many scenes. I honestly had a difficult time imagining **_**how**_** to even get this story in the direction I want it. I just wanted to include more emotional dragon time.**

**I only partially liked the part with the feast and the meeting between Jon and Dany so I may include that, but I will modify things to fit my view (including more Missandei because just…why wasn't she there?). The show just marched all over Dany, portraying her harshly and I don't like how everyone turned against her especially the people that advise her- the people whose advice she took, almost every time, losing so much because of it, but…this is why I write fanfiction.**

**I hope you still enjoyed this little piece of emotional and intense interaction, as a small victory celebration. Tell me what are your thoughts on the feast scene and just how much drama are you going to be ready to read and which characters do you want to see more of?**

**Thank you so much for the response, I love reading every one of your reviews! Am I allowed to have a favourite reviewer? Lillian81, thank you for every motivating and astute review! **

**Also, a curiosity of mine for episode 5…do you think that Cersei would use wild fire directly on Dany and if so…would she emerge Unburnt from that too?**

**As always expecting your thoughts in the review section. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

They had gathered mainly to discuss their losses, to count what men they still had left, to count the wounded and start making the arrangements for regrouping. It was a formal, sombre meeting, silent but for each commander informing them how many had perished and how many remained. More than half their shared forces were gone, lost into a battle that drained them to the bone both physically and emotionally.

It was the right time, as Tyrion had suggested for a celebratory feast, evident that they all needed some moments to feel relief, to enjoy their victory. Because it was not a small one, it was the most important one, it was what had frightened them all immensely. And they all deserved to celebrate life. Dany had not had time to face Jon alone again, they saw each other at the feast, sharing only a few lingering glances. They had most definitely been caught up in the moment, but, just now, with all the people having a good time, eating and drinking and laughing, they watched each other and shared discreet smiles, also enjoying a moment of ease. The loud cheers echoed around them, an overall atmosphere of content.

She could barely eat, not really having a mind for that, still unsettled by the immense loss of her people, still trying to figure out how to proceed with Jon, what it meant for them to have kissed. She saw Varys so attentively watching her, so focused on her every move, every smile she shared with Jon, as if not encouraging it, as if that may present a problem. And he was not the only one. Sansa had the exact same reactions, yet Dany didn't see her behind Jon.

Maybe it was the way she still so blatantly felt out of place, identifying with only the people she had come with, the Spider would sense that. It felt that even now, she had a weight on her shoulders to act a certain way, to be completely aware and in control of her words and gestures. And she was _tired._

The one person that knew her better than anyone, that could see her inner struggle even now, that knew exactly what was plaguing her mind was the only one that would be able to get her out of that inertia. And she did just that, with a small, reassuring hand placed on her shoulder and a small plate with meat placed on her table.

"Your Grace, the Dothraki sent their Khaleesi 'proper meat'." Missandei explained, presenting her the traditional meat that she used to eat at the Dothraki camp. She smiled back, pleased that her people would so kindly think about still traditionally sharing with her.

"And this is the calming tea to help you sleep, Your Grace" The woman continued in Valyrian, knowing that it was better to be discreet about the sleepless nights, filled with worry and distress.

"Thank you, Missandei" Dany smiled up at her, taking a sip of the tea and placing a hand over Missandei's arm in gratitude.

Missandei and Grey Worm had both been offered a seat at Dany's side, next to Tyrion and Varys, of course. The remaining Dothraki had decided to have their own feast, but, outside, under the great night sky, still more comfortable out in the open. It was somehow refreshing to see all the different people from different parts of the world and with extremely different customs come together to enjoy being alive. They were not completely comfortable around each other – especially with the free folk's high regard for over-drinking and oversharing, but the entire hall had one big reason to bond over.

She saw a questioning look coming from Jon as he eyed the piece of meat that looked barely cooked (the way Dothraki liked it) on her plate. And she actually cracked a smile at him, before cutting a piece and eating it slowly. It was funny to see the look of uncertainty that crossed Jon's face at seeing her plate morph into relief as she actually ate something.

Dany then started actually paying more attention to the people around her as she had her little 'outsmart Tyrion' moment, a happy new lord of Storm's End now exiting the hall. And, with Jon sitting on her other side, Daenerys switched from the toast she made to meet his eyes and she relished in seeing a proud smile on his face.

She was really making an effort, but now without trying too hard as she had done with Sansa in the beginning. It was clear that no one really cared much for formalities during the feast. No one in the north actually seemed to be so concerned with formalities, they were all very direct people, but still very defensive and clearly not trusting of foreigners. Everyone was allowing themselves to celebrating their lives and coping with their losses by toasting in the memory of their fallen comrades.

Daenerys watched the people around her, smiling warmly at Missandei when she met her eyes. The woman really was a most special person in Dany's life and she was grateful for everything that Missandei had done for her, for just being there for her. It was nice to have a break from the usual tension and apprehension about upcoming battles, about powerplays and scheming and betrayal. It was a good feeling to have something to celebrate, to be happy about and simply enjoy a night without worries. Because they had time now, they would worry enough and start planning and making strategies later.

Even Grey Worm was relaxing, his lips also curled into the smallest of smiles as he talked to Missandei. And it was because of _her_ that he was starting to embrace some emotions back into his life. Dany turned back to Jon, seeing him surrounded by people, daring him to drink and get drunk. It was clear that the northerners had very different ways of having fun, had less decorum and need for proper manners, but they seemed to be having much more fun, even Sansa sharing in encouraging Jon into drinking.

She was not accustomed to this much indulgence and carelessness, but found herself absorbed by the sight of Jon, sluggishly denying their amusing persistent pleas. It was a different setting than she was used to, having only had Tyrion ever be so fond of drinking wine to the point of blissful numbness. And it clearly was not her usual setting, she was not in her element and neither were her people, even though they did seem to be engaged in conversation with each other rather unaware of everything else.

"To the Dragon Queen!" Dany heard a shout from her right side, seeing as the small group gathered around Jon raised their goblets and toasted to her.

It was a pleasant surprise and she watched as Jon turned towards her, coming to stand next to her as all the other people joined in and toasted to her. His goblet was high in the air as he extended his hand for her to take and stand up. If she were to overthink it, to analyse from every aspect the simple gesture, she would have hesitated for longer, but it was so natural and easy for her to just smile, take his hand and stand up. The cheers made her hope that maybe there was a possibility that these people would warm up to her, now that she had sacrificed so much, now that she was not doing things so overly formal.

Dany's hand remained tenderly clasped by Jon's, her eyes having flitted shortly to her left to see Missandei and Grey Worm on their feet, toasting to her, giving her the reassurance that she needed. She briefly sought out Tyrion, as well, pleased to see him sporting a huge grin as he inclined his goblet towards her. And, sensing a slight caress of his thumb over her palm, Dany turned back to look at Jon, his eyes dark, but so tender and warm and a knowing smile on his lips.

"To the brave men and women that fought out there and died out there!" Dany responded, looking into Jon's eyes as loud cheers erupted into the room.

Her words rang through his mind, travelled into his very veins, the _sincerity_ of them, the emotion reflected in her eyes. She really did lose so many people, she really mourned them, it was stupid of him to question why she was so distant and lost in thought at the table. It was obvious that she cared, it had been obvious since the battle. And now, people saw it, people saw _her._ For a moment, the people around them didn't exist, they were alone, simply appreciating this moment of contentment, sharing a look of deep devotion, conveying all that relief of being alive and well and having more time to figure things out.

Jon had been watching her, had gone from concerned about her not eating and not talking to feeling so proud of her, admiring her as his fellow northerners toasted to her. Now, as he held her hand, his mind only a bit muddled by the wine, or perhaps because of that, he felt his reluctance towards touching her in public disappear. He looked at her, he felt her soft fingers curled against his own, saw the look of fiery affection reflected back at him. This woman was stunning, both hauntingly beautiful and fiercely powerful. It overwhelmed him how much he _felt_ for her. With how much wine he had been coerced into drinking, his feelings were seemingly impossible to hold back. They were wreaking havoc over him, fighting to be portrayed on his features. Jon's mind descended into chaos, the wine blurring the lines of reality, his body reacting to Dany's closeness, not really aware of the eyes that were on them. He just wanted to give in, to bring her closer and kiss her and to hell with what everyone thought.

Briefly, Dany felt a slight tug from his hand and could see his eyes darting to her lips. Their kiss from earlier came to mind, heart thudding against her chest. It had been incredibly passionate and intense, a release of all that tension they had been accumulating for so long. But here, now it was probably not the best time for this, not without having decided what to do. Dany needed to be the rational one, to not let Jon rush into things, not like this. They were under close enough scrutiny already, she knew that for a fact, both from her advisor and most of all from Sansa.

"To my sister, Arya Stark, the hero of Winterfell!" Their moment was harshly interrupted by Sansa's voice.

As Jon seemed startled back into reality, Dany turned towards the Lady of Winterfell and she could clearly see the challenge and hostility in her eyes. It was chilling to watch the cold demeanour that she always presented towards Dany. It was also clear that she had indeed been paying close attention to her and Jon.

"To Arya!" Daenerys nodded, having the quickness to respond to her provocation, actually sincere in her agreement to the words, she did think highly of Arya, she deserved the recognition even if she did not want it. She shared a look with Jon, both thinking about their encounter from earlier with Arya and how happy she had been.

Of course, people cheered louder than at every other toast. And Dany only had glanced towards Missandei after she practically stared down the Stark girl. It was evident that her advisor and friend agreed with her, noticing her narrowed eyes directed at Sansa, just enough to not get any unwanted attention, discreet. She knew her friend and appreciated the disapproval in her eyes as she noticed the subtle attempt of Sansa at undermining Dany's words and actions. Jon, too, looked back at Sansa, after hearing the strange tone with which she had spoken. Maybe it was the wine that made him think that there was more to her words than simply praising Arya. He knew that the youngest Stark girl did not want the attention, hence her absence from the feast. And still there was something off about the whole scene, his mind trying to associate the cold tone of voice with the look that Sansa threw Dany's way. It was a stark contrast between her look when she said that and the look on Dany's face when she had taken Arya on a ride on Drogon earlier. Even now, when Dany agreed, toasting to Arya, her eyes only narrowed at Sansa, but her eyes were unguarded and sincere when she turned to him to address her agreement.

Jon was pulled out of his thoughts by the sudden solid slap of Tormund's hand against his back, effectively rattling his body. Dany had let go of his hand, returning to sit next to her advisors as he was swept back into drinking with the free folk and Davos. Chaos settled over the hall, everyone laughing and talking and he went back to only stealing glances at Dany. He didn't even notice the side eye that Sansa was giving them and did not even note her absence once she stood up and swiftly left their side. Dany did notice, however, she still had a clear mind and had perceived the small changes in the features of Sansa Stark throughout the night. The girl truly was calm and stern, still clearly not accepting of Dany. And, as she watched Sansa leave their table, she felt Missandei's hand on her own, drawing her attention.

"These people are here, safe, celebrating because of your help. You have earned their respect and admiration." Missandei spoke in Valyrian, her voice confident and comforting beyond anything else. And Dany squeezed her hand in gratitude, turning her eyes back to the people.

Yes, they were accepting of her, respectful and yet, it was different for them, they were not a part of this world, this northerner world. They were still different, in upbringing, beliefs, but, as were the Dothraki and the Unsullied and, still, they functioned as allies under the respect and admiration for her. So maybe this was the beginning of the most powerful alliance, the joining of the northerners and the free folk and the Dothraki from across the Narrow Sea and the Unsullied. The start of mending ties that were severed long before, leaving behind all of their mistrust and putting aside all differences to share a world, to live. After some time, Dany grew tired, deciding to retire for the night.

She glanced back at Jon, seeing him so deeply immersed in conversation and laughing with Ser Davos that she did not want to interrupt. So, silently she stood up and left, noticing that Varys and Missandei and Grey Worm followed behind her closely. She thanked them, quickly slipping into her chamber and going to sit in front of the fire. It was her favourite way to calm down and relax and most of all to keep as warm as possible because she just didn't seem to escape the cold.

She couldn't account for the amount of time that passed when she heard a soft knock on her door and saw Jon enter hesitantly. His movements were a bit fumbling, clearly affected by the wine, but he looked determined enough and genuinely relieved to finally be alone with her.

"You're drunk" Dany stated, amused at seeing him like this, but knowing that they were not about to have the serious conversation that they wanted.

"Not drunk enough to change the fact that _I don't want it_!" Jon insisted, closing the distance between them and kneeling in front of Dany. He took her hand, honesty clear in his voice, eyes and actions. She looked at him in wonder, a sad smile on her lips as she saw the candour of this man, the way that he wore his heart up his sleeve. He truly was the most open, direct and honest man that she had ever met and maybe that was not in his best interest, not when there were so many things at stake. Not when so many people around them were so cunning and deceitful.

"It may not matter what you want. The people that came to me across the Narrow Sea had had no other choice. They supported me and my claim because there was nobody else, because of my blood. They helped me grow into a proper Queen,_ yes, after_ they got to know me, but they have another option now…"

She tried to convey to him exactly how many implications there were, it was too complicated a situation to even begin to find a solution, but he needed to understand exactly all that was happening and all that was to follow.

"Dany, you are _my Queen_." He quickly interrupted her, his hands coming up to cup the side of her face. The action was so reverent, so heartfelt along with the deep yearning in his eyes for her to see that he was sincerely devoted to her.

"People are unpredictable, you cannot control what they do with this information. I'm afraid of what they would do to us…" Dany whispered, her fingers gripping his wrists, trying to ensure he knew that they were not in control, that they needed to think things very carefully.

"Dany. No one will change my mind about this." Jon insisted, his eyes boring into hers, so resolute and unyielding. She furrowed her brows, her tired eyes taking in his features, wanting to stop talking, feeling at ease in his presence and her body finally not feeling the cold.

"We'll talk in the morning." Dany sighed in resignation and rested her forehead against his, taking comfort in the little contact.

"Can I…stay tonight? I just can't sleep well" Jon whispered, his words stumbling from his lips before his brain caught up to what he was suggesting. Her surprise was short lasting, her mind already made up. They both needed the comfort of each other's embrace.

"Yes, stay…" Dany replied softly, her body too tired to ignore the invitation of a good night's sleep.

* * *

**I have no words. Or I would have too many words of disappointment. The show took things too far, too fast, too poorly. **

**So, this slow burn story hopefully gives us all a little more drama and excitement. I feel like now, my story is moving _way too slow. _ Let me know if you would want to speed things up. ****I would also like to hear just how much intimate, steamy moments you would like to read. Because, in my opinion, there is plenty of time for that.**

**Also, if there are any suggestions about ****who would you like to read more about (dragons/Jon&Dany/Missandei/Arya/Sansa/anyone)**

**I hope _you_ do have things to say, in the reviews, loved to read your thoughts on everything so far. **

**Thank you so much!**


	7. Chapter 7

The hot flames seemed to have warmed Jon too much as he divested his tunic and stretched on the bed, evidently too tired or too drunk or too exhausted. Dany watched him, almost amused at his familiarity. She sort of envied his ability to _feel warm_ because she had not slept in less than at least a robe and an underdress since she had come up north.

He was barely keeping his eyes opened by the time she exchanged her formal attire for her sleeping robe, keeping her underdress while she changed. She did notice his eyes follow her movement before hearing his whispered question.

"Are you cold, Dany?" He seemed to want to ask her in a particularly more daring way, judging by the way he stood up straighter, his muscles flexing, but his brain was still too tired to do better.

"I am always cold." Dany replied, a sad tilt to her voice.

She watched him, admiring the full display of taut muscle as she began un-braiding her hair, slowly, her fingers threading through each braid, an action so simple, yet so meaningful. For Jon to see her so unguarded was another reminder of their intimate nights shared on that boat, another hint at the human part of the Dragon Queen.

"Then come and let me keep my Queen warm." Jon smiled slightly as he was reminded of her words back at the waterfalls.

And this was a moment in which they could both let go of all they had been burdened with and just relish in each other's comfort. Daenerys almost laughed at him, but was thankful to accept his invitation and climb into his warm embrace. Strong arms enveloped her and a soft sigh escaped her lips as she finally settled into his welcoming hold. Instantly, a feeling of calm, of _safety,_ took over her body as her head rested over his heart and a hand over his scars.

Jon's fingers slowly drew soothing circles over her lower back, warming her up and still pulling her in closer, needing to reassure himself that she was there, safe. Her hair fell in luscious silver tendrils over his chest, over both their bodies, almost shielding them from the outside world. Her soft, yet ice cold cheek pressed into his chest, drawing heat from his skin.

He was extremely tired and could feel his eyes closing, yet struggled to stay awake to prolong the moment. He knew that she was just as tired if not more than him so he wanted to help her sleep, to hold her and comfort her into getting a good night's sleep. As his lips pressed a gentle kiss atop her head and his hand glided into her hair, playing with it softly until he reached her neck and kneaded her tired muscles.

"Sleep, Dany" a mere whisper spoken into her hair.

Daenerys truly was worn out and she took notice of his tender touches, placing the ghost of a kiss onto his chest, her lips barely brushing over his skin. A small wisp of air fell from her lips, a sigh, as she heard his words and Jon shivered under her. Just with the little gestures, they meant so much more, sharing in the appreciation for finally feeling calm enough to sleep.

And they did fall asleep, immediately, hearts beating in sync, breaths deep and soothing, but not even Jon's presence around her could assure she would get no nightmares.

_Flashes of different settings blurred through her mind, images jumping from one to another rapidly, dizzying. She dreamt of Jorah, of their journey through the desert and the misery they had endured, she only saw him, she could not speak, she did not even have time. One moment she was there, the next she was in Mereen, in the arena, attacked and surrounded, the next she was being dragged along by the Dothraki, followed by being forced to yet again witness Viserion's death Beyond the Wall and topped with the face of the Night King staring unaffected at her. She kept flashing through all her terrible memories before she was jolted into another vision._

_This time it was Cersei, towering over her from afar, sitting defiantly on the Iron Throne. She sensed another presence near her and saw Jon walk up next to her. The room was lined with tens of barrels, suspicion making Dany weary of this setting. _

"_If I won't have the Throne, then no one will!" Cersei declared, her voice like poison. Suddenly, bright green flames erupting all around her. _

_Wildfire. Dany remembered being told by Tyrion about it. Yet it was overwhelming, it exploded all around her, an endless fire. And she panicked, looking over at Jon. She could feel the flames effectively burning her clothes, yet, as any other flames, they did not __**burn**__her flesh. But Jon…Aegon. He was a true heir, but his blood was not purely Targaryen and even if it were, Viseryon had been a fair example that pure blood was not an assurance that he was a true dragon._

"_JON!" She yelled out, a scream muffled by the flames, but she started moving, not even caring about the agonizing screams of Cersei as she burned along with the Throne that has caused so much death and suffering. The Lannister tyrant deserved to die this most painful death, from her very own weapon._

_And, as she had begun moving, Dany felt another bolt of dizziness, the scenario changing with a bright green flash. For a moment she was assaulted by whispers, countless voices without body, eerily reminiscent of the time in the House of the Undying. She could only make out a few words, which were spoken like harsh gasps against her ears: __**treason, beware, poison, truth, love, madness, secret, family…death**_

_Cold shivers ran over her entire body, a fear unjustified, but so powerful taking over her. It wouldn't be the first time that her dreams and visions would hold some truth to them, turning out to be more of a warning than a dream. And she abruptly felt swept away from the scene, her body almost hurting from the pull._

_Then Dany was flying, fast and fearful, Drogon blowing fire at the walls to what seemed like King's Landing. She could see the multitude of weapons that Cersei had prepared for her dragons, could hear Rhaegal screech in the distance. She turned around, panicked, seeing Rhaegal barely dodging the multitude of arrows flying his way. It was chaos, she could make out the armies battling in the field, fear gripping her heart at knowing that Jon was there commanding the attack, screams and clattering of swords ringing in her ears. _

_She plunged into the gates, dragon fire sweeping over much of the outer wall and destroying some of those dragon sized crossbows, but arrows kept flying at her and she was just too focused on Jon to see the arrow that missed Drogon, but, instead, sliced right through her side. And then, even worse than the immense pain that erupted in her body was the loud growl of Rhaegal as he was struck down violently by multiple arrows. _

_Her heart soared with pain and anger and grief. Her dragon collapsed right onto the battlefield and she surged with fire over the walls again, destroying with rage all the remaining Scorpions. Her vision was clouded with rage, with need to avenge her dragon, yet her body was not only emotionally damaged, but also physically. And, in a rush of pain and dizziness, when Drogon rose high to dive for another blow, Dany's body failed to obey her, for the first time not being able to hold onto Drogon as she felt herself falling fast, her whole world spinning as she plummeted to her death._

And that's how she woke with a startle, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat covering her body, shivers raking over her in terror and trepidation. She looked back at Jon, seeing his eyes opening slowly, before taking in her appearance and quickly growing concerned.

The morning sun crept inside the chamber, a sign that, even though she had dreamt so much, they had actually gotten a full night of sleep.

"Dany, what's happened?" Jon reached over to take her back into his arms, seeing very clearly how shaken up she was.

"I had a terrible dream" Daenerys whispered back, not even caring how vulnerable she sounded or looked because she needed Jon, she needed to have comfort and feel safe after the things that had been playing out in her dreams. Allowing herself this moment of baring her soul, of simply drawing strength from Jon.

Jon simply took her into his embrace, protectively bringing her closer, tucking her head under his chin, feeling small puffs of air over his neck as she tried to ease her breathing. One palm soothed up and down her back, while the other tangled softly into her hair. He was never too good at comforting people, much less with words, so he held her close, rocking their bodies lightly.

They were interrupted suddenly by a knock on the door and Dany pulled back, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder in gratitude. She knew that it was probably Missandei, which was immediately confirmed as the woman called out to her, to see if she could enter. Jon, of course, had stumbled out of bed immediately, in search of his tunic, a situation mildly amusing, almost making her forget about her nightmare. She turned to him, walking up to help him tie his laces quicker.

"Will you come back tonight?" Dany whispered, and he looked back at her in a gentle, way, his fingers threading in her hair and pulling her closer to kiss her chin as he consented.

And, with that and the complete certainty that her friend would never divulge their secret, she called for her to enter. After a brief, awkward greeting, Missandei told them that they were both expected in the Council chamber.

* * *

"Your Grace, we still suggest we go to Dragonstone, to better regroup from there, to be closer to King's Landing and start planning the siege." Tyrion advised her, when they had all gathered.

"I will not travel such long distances until Rhaegal is fully healed." Dany replied, knowing that her dragon was wounded badly enough to hinder his usual strength.

"Our men need time to heal, as well" Sansa spoke up, her voice still cold and almost reproachful towards Dany for putting her dragon's health above the people's.

"And they shall have it. Until then, you will send word to Yara Greyjoy and any other Lord that could help and start planning the siege." Daenerys eyed Tyrion and Varys pointedly.

"We could regroup back at Dragonstone in a fortnight, when we will have more insight on what Cersei has done and who else stands with us. We shall gather everyone and end Cersei's tyranny for good." The Queen insisted, knowing that information was valuable and their best option would be to take their time to heal and prepare a better, well thought-out plan.

"Why not just assassinate Cersei and avoid the war altogether?" Arya spoke for the first time, eyeing both Jon and Dany.

"It's not that easy. We need people's trust and understanding, not their weariness and fear." Jon responded, knowing that however easier it seemed, it was not really viable.

"Also, my sister has had time to be paranoid and scheme all kinds of plots to prevent this exact thing. She is not stupid. We should not underestimate her." Tyrion supplied quickly after Jon, his tone grave.

"We won't. That's why we will plan this war properly. Why _you_ will think of every possible thing she could be doing and advise us how to prepare to defeat her." Dany agreed, knowing that Tyrion was right and that whilst Arya's suggestion was great in theory, it was likely not applicable in this situation. People needed to have a public explanation, not a silent assassination, unexplained and a new ruler just thrust upon them.

"Yes, Your Grace." Varys replied, having stood silent until then. He was glad to be once again in a position of significance, after having felt so out of character to be hiding and feeling so helpless during the battle. He had missed putting his mastery into practice and now could return to what he did best.

* * *

**So, tonight is the ending. This was an EPIC TV show, one that has made us **_**feel so much**_**, no matter if we'll be mad or sad or disappointed, it is the finale and we are going to say goodbye to a beautiful cast, magnificent music and incredible cinematography. **

**We all know it's not going to be happy, so, until then I wanted to post this as a little distraction from the anticipation. The nightmare scenes were things that I did imagine would happen at some point, but didn't on the show and won't happen in the story, either. Or will they?**

**Also, there is the problem of Jon's ability or inability to **_**not**_** burn. I don't know if we will get any information about that on the show, but I do have a theory…you will read about it here, in a later chapter.**

**I would like to hear if there are any particular theories that you would like me to add into this story. Especially after the finale, when all of those intricate theories will be left unanswered and unaddressed.**

**Thank you for reading and please leave your thoughts in the review section! **

**Valar Morghulis !**


	8. Chapter 8

Jon was outside, talking to Tormund Giantsbane, who had been actually dying to tease him about Dany, Jon could tell. Even Ghost had finally been hanging out around them, silently looking at them from his spot by Jon's feet.

"So how's your Dragon Queen? Have you kept her warm enough?"

Jon eyed him warily, remembering all too vividly that the free folk were incredibly direct, not minding their audience when they talked. And out there in the open courtyard was definitely not the place to be having a conversation about his nights with Dany, much less with Tormund. So he kept quiet, only smiling and shaking his head, which, of course only egged the redhead on.

"So you did. Started making little dragon babies, eh?" he continued, the funny remark whispered, in a sort of private manner, but making Jon's smile falter.

That was another thing entirely that he was not about to get into with Tormund. The man was, in good humor, trying to make Jon feel better, to banter with him as they always did. But the subject was definitely not amusing to Jon. The conversations that he had had with Dany over this very thing were playing out in his mind, still saddening him.

His answer was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the subject of their discussion. As she did everyday, Daenerys had been to check how her dragons were doing, how her men were recovering. She saw Jon look up at her and smile, so she approached them. Their little shared smile didn't go unnoticed by Tormund, who had, not so subtly nudged Jon. Her closeness even got Ghost's attention as his head tilted towards her.

"My Queen" Jon greeted her, standing up and even bowing his head, formal as ever, making Dany smile, genuinely amused. Tormund, on the other hand snorted quite loudly at hearing him, ever so subtle.

As Jon stood up to offer her his seat, Ghost stood up, as well. The direwolf looked at Daenerys with a sort of scrutiny that was uncanning for animals, he circled her once, sniffing at her hair and at her hands when she extended them in greeting, taking off her gloves. Jon watched carefully, mesmerised by the reaction from both their parts, Dany showing that she not only had a special way with her dragons, but with his direwolf, too. Satisfied with his appraisal, Ghost licked Dany's hand in acceptance and proceeded to place his snout in her lap. He nudged her stomach with his snout gently, as her fingers started petting his head lovingly.

She smiled at the direwolf, feeling a warmth spread through her at the interaction. Jon's companion clearly was so alike him, warm and gentle, offering a true type of affection, instinctual.

Jon found this awfully sweet, whilst Tormund leaned into his ear and teased him again that it is good that he has the Big woman for if not, he would probably want get to know the dragon Queen better since every dangerous beast seemed to be so infatuated by her.

Dany had been too distracted by Ghost to hear the whispers passing between Jon and his friend, only seeing that Jon was narrowing his eyes in response. But she definitely heard the next words coming from the wildling.

"I don't see how she likes _you _when you're so _soft_, Snow"

Raising an eyebrow at the interesting choice of words, wondering if the man truly had intended to use the double entendre. As she looked over at Jon, Daenerys stifled a laugh at seeing the look on his face. It was funny to see the shock and incredulity mix with amusement and embarrassment on Jon's face. He shook his head in innocent disbelief, trying not to look over at Dany too fast, but seeing the mirth on her features, he resolved in actually bursting into laughter.

His eyes stayed fixed on her, hearing that she had joined him in laughing. It was a most beautiful view, seeing her in a moment so happy and carefree, with his direwolf settled at her feet and actually laughing.

* * *

Tyrion overseed the whole scene alongside Jamie, who didn't hesitate to ask, baffled, why they had not married off Daenerys to Jon already. He looked over suspiciously at Tyrion, analysinghhis reaction, his features and understanding clearly that his brother was actually very much in love with his Queen.

"Well that explains it." Jaimie surmised, crossing his arms as he looked on at his brother.

"What you are thinking right now happens to have no relevance, the timing just wasn't right. I'm not the only one who thinks that" Tyrion specified, his speech a little too rushed and too detailed to be considered entirely truthful.

"They are _clearly_ sleeping together, they could only have more power if it's official." Jaimie continued, his eyes having followed Jon Snow and the Dragon Queen enough already to see the little signs that they were more intimately acquainted.

"It isn't the time for weddings, it is a time for war. And love is not the best ally in a war." Tyrion's voice was barely a whisper, but his words were punctuated, emphasised as if to convince himself, too.

"Yes , I should know that…" Jaimie looked away, his mind tunring back to his own past in regards to love.

"The people had their celebrations, the wedding can come after we deal with Cersei." But was quickly interrupted by his brother.

"Wed them now, give the people something to be happy about, let them see them as family, they will support her even more."

Those words made Tyrion turn towards his brother with amusement and shock. He wouldn't have thought that Jaimie would think like that, would advise that they show a more emotional side of Daenerys as a Queen. It did seem like a good enough idea, people needed that sort of thing if they were to understand her and not see her as an invader.

"It is not my decision alone…" Tyrion sighed, following Jaimie as he turned back to look at the couple.

"He would wed her right now, look at him." Jaimie insisted, his voice rising as they kept watching the interaction.

"it's not just up to _them_. They are strong political figures. Sansa doesn't like it. She would oppose. And Jon would hesitate for his family and then Dany would consider he was betraying her and things would not be good in the fight to come. "

A rush of words, trying to make sense of how maby things could go wrong. It was his job, after all. But things were simply too complicated and they still had a war and a siege to plan. They needed to focus on that. They couldn't afford to ignore the bigger picture.

"Bloody politics…how far ahead can you think like that, brother? Without your head exploding that is… " Relenting for the moment, Jamie returned to his usual teasing of his brother.

"it's a requirement when you're hand of the Queen."

A long pause followed, both of them thinking about the possibilities and still looking on at the people in cause as laughter filled the courtyard.

"Just think of a solution before either of them gets the idea of marriage on their own." Jaimie concluded, giving his little brother a pat on the shoulder.

"When did YOU become so wise, brother?" Sighing, Tyrion decided that there was enough of the political drama for the moment, reverting to his usual banter.

"Don't worry, I won't take your place as the smartest Lannister just yet."

* * *

Later, in the silence following their laughter and halpiness; stern, cold and distant as ever, Bran slowly came over to them. The mood certainly shifted abruptly, his presence unexpected, making Dany shiver when he, out of nowhere extended his hand for Dany's hand. Looking at Jon, she hesitated, seeing the slight apprehension in Jon's eyes, too, but when Bran's hand touched hers, a sudden vision flooded her mind.

Completely taken aback, Dany felt like she was transported into another world, into a vision extremely detailed and intense. With great awareness, all senses heightened, sensations overwhelming her body, Dany felt a deep, excruciating pain ripple through her, like her body was breaking in half. She was in extreme shock, a coldness gripping her more fiercely than any other time, embedded in her bones. Looking down she saw blood covering her trembling hands, her stomach, her dress and flowing down, warm liquid dripping at her feet.

Around her, in a dark, cold room was nothing but the Iron Throne. The room seemed deserted, cold, wrecked and only a sliver of light entered from the broken windows. Her heartbeat started pounding in her ears, her legs shaking uncontrollably as she tried to walk. She was weak, her mouth parting in preparation to call out for help, but no sound could escape her lips. Panic settled over her, the situation incredibly disturbing. And then she heard a loud wail coming from outside. Ignoring the Iron Throne as once before in her visions, she turned towards the sound.

Drogon.

Her dragon was calling out to her, her child needed her. And she struggled to reach the window, to see where he was, to see what was out there. Her feet carried her unsteadily, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. She breathed shakily, pushing through the pain, clutching her stomach as another wave of pain surged through her, her gaze unfocusing for a moment. Shock firstly came as she realised that beneath her fingers, her stomach was swollen, the pain clearly coming from deep within her_. It couldn't be…_

And, startled by another loud wail, when she reached the window, she could see everything outside. The desolate view made her gasp, there was debris and ashes everywhere, fallen buildings all around, a huge wasteland spreading as far as her eyes could see.

And in the middle of it, perfectly aligned were her remaining Unsullied, surrounded by the horseriding Dothraki, a cold view of her loyal armies. Her eyes were wide, teary as she looked on, failing to find Rhaegal and finally seeing Drogon hunched over a body, clearly wailing in mourning. Her heart almost stopped as she pieced it together. Her dragon would mourn for only one person beside her, for the only other Targaryen.

"Jon…" Dany gasped as again her vision blurred.

Was this the future? She looked around, tears now falling freely down her cheeks as she tried to process everything. Was she really going to lose another child, another dragon, another man that she loves and even her own _sanity_ in pursuit of the throne?!

Her mind reeled and her heart, too, as she tried to process exactly what was happening. Her other visions had been vague, visually convincing, but never like this, never so vivid, never with such physical involvement and never in so much detail.

Dany felt faint, her body giving up, it was just too much. And that's when her vision clouded, when she felt like she was falling, darkness engulfing her body.

And then there was nothing…

* * *

**So, a bit of a challenge to continue writing this at the pace that it started and with so many characters involved**

**Dany's visions and Bran's abilities, to me, needed to be explored more. I think a bit more dialogue and banter does good to a story, hope you agree. I included the scene with the throne a bit differently because I could have seen it happening only like this. Also, I know for sure that Bran will not be king in this story, as you may bave figured.**

**Thank you for reading, I can't wait to read your reviews, for motivation now that drama seemes to be picking up. **


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